August 2014

08/31/2014

Becca Thorpe has uprooted her life and escaped to the beach. Now's her chance to get away from city living, throw caution to the ocean winds, and live in the moment. Especially if the moment includes the deliciously sexy surfer she meets shortly after arriving in Lucky Harbor. Something about the dark intensity of Sam's eyes and the thrill she gets at his touch convinces her to stay awhile.

Boatbuilder and investment genius Sam Brody is a self-made man who knows how dangerous it can be to mix business and pleasure. But he can't resist offering Becca a job just to hear her laugh and have her near. Yet when her brother comes to town asking for help, will he tempt her back to her glamorous life in the city? Or do Sam and little Lucky Harbor have a chance to win Becca's heart?

New York Times bestselling author Jill Shalvis lives in a small town in the Sierras full of quirky characters. Any resemblance to the quirky characters in her books is, um, mostly coincidental. Look for Jill's bestselling, award-winning books wherever romances are sold and visit her website for a complete book list and daily blog detailing her city-girl-living-in-the-mountains adventures.You can learn more about Jill at: JillShalvis.com Twitter @jillshalvis

08/29/2014

Katya looked around the restaurant. Surrounded by trees outside, the interior was exposed timber and glass, giving The Wild Side the feel of a hunting lodge in the woods. The fieldstone fireplace with its cheery gas log fire and the trophy animal heads on the wall carried out the theme.

“Well? What do you think?” Cam smiled at her from across the linen-covered table, the dimple in his cheek deepening.

“That gazelle looks pissed. I think he wants his body back.” The unblinking stare of the animals on the walls gave her the willies, so she kept her eyes on Cam. Well, maybe that wasn’t the only reason. His royal blue Western-cut shirt showed off his washed-blue eyes. The candlelight fractured in them, and she had a hard time looking anywhere else. He’d taken off his hat when he sat down, but it left a mark in his short, hollow-gold hair. She took a sip of her white wine to cool off. God, if he were on the menu, this place would be overrun with women.

He chuckled, and when the waiter walked over with menus, he held up a hand. “Will you trust me to order?” He gave her a one-sided smile, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“I guess I’ll trust you that far.”

Not much farther though. She had no doubt that smile had separated dozens of women from their panties. Don’t forget, you don’t belong here. Why did she have to keep reminding herself of that lately?

He ordered something called the Hunter’s Feast for Two. When the waiter walked away, Cam turned his attention back to her. “You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Smith. It cost me dearly to get you sitting across the table from me. Are you sure you aren’t a horse trader on the side?”

She snorted. “I should have warned you, it’s in my blood. My great-great grandfather made enough money trading horses to bring his family to America.”

“Literally?”

Might as well get it out in the open. In spite of the modern push to accept “cultural diversity,” there was still a lot of prejudice against her kind. “I don’t just dress Gypsy, Cam. I am Gypsy.”

“No kidding?” The touch of his regard settled on her. “I know so little about you. Where did you grow up?”

Well, he’d answered her questions. No harm in answering a few benign ones of his. “In DC. But my summers I spent with my Gypsy family, in Chicago.”

“What was that like?”

“It was heaven. I’m an only child. But in Chicago, my huge extended family took me in every summer and folded me into the clan.” She smiled, seeing Grand’s apartment in her mind. “It was like stepping into another world. Like I lived two different lives.”

“When did you join the army?”

“After nine/eleven. A lot of people joined then.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed you for a soldier, but once I knew it, lots of things made sense. Did you like it?”

“I loved it. In a way, it was like Chicago. Another kind of family. We rely on each other under hard times and stressful circumstances. It forges a strong bond.”

“You miss it.”

Once again, his eyes made her nervous, seeing too much. “Something happened over there, didn’t it?”

“I miss it.”

The waiter brought their salads, breaking the pull of his gaze. That gaze made her want to talk, to spill her dark story all over the pristine tablecloth, staining everything.

She lifted her fork. “Tell me about your family. Where are you from?”

They chatted about safe subjects until their meal arrived; a huge platter of unrecognizable meat, without a vegetable in sight. Unless fried potatoes qualified.

He looked it over. “I’m torn. I’m afraid if I tell you what’s here, you won’t eat it, and you’d miss out on some great food. But I don’t want to ambush you either. So you tell me. Do you want to know?”

She picked up her fork, stabbed a deep-fried Rocky Mountain oyster, and popped it in her mouth.

His eyes got big. “Wait, that’s a—”

“Cow testicle, I know.” She licked her lips. “I have to say, it’s better than sheep, but not as good as camel.” She glanced around for the waiter, then back to him. “Do you think they have hot sauce?”

His eyes got bigger. “I think I’m in love,” he breathed.

Excerpt:

Dalton thought he was just about free to go when the photographer called the wedding party back for pictures, first in the sanctuary, then outside in the warm sun. He hadn’t had to hold a smile for such a long time that his face muscles were starting to protest when the guy decided ten thousand shots were enough.

Finally he could slip out of his jacket. His cattle’s blackand-white coats might keep them warm in winter and cool in summer, but he was about to dissolve into a giant drop of sweat. As the rest of the guests came out of the church to say good-bye to the happy couple, he loosened his tie, then saw Jessy, standing in the shade of an oak, arms folded over her middle, watching him.

God, she’d been watching him all through the reception, and him her. He couldn’t say why he hadn’t approached her, asked her to share a piece of cake, talk with him, dance with him. Then his gut clenched hard, his chest tightening, and he remembered: because he would have spontaneously combusted, and wouldn’t that have been an ugly page in Dane and Carly’s wedding album? From the moment he’d walked into the church and seen her sitting there all beautiful and sexy and focused on him, all he could think was, Is it time? Please, can it be time?

He was surprised God hadn’t struck him down where he stood.

It was stupid, he thought as he walked to her. He was thirty-two years old. He’d been married. He’d had sex with his share of women. Hell, he’d had sex with this woman. But he hadn’t known then what he knew now. Then it had been horniness and loneliness, and any woman who persisted until he was drunk would have satisfied. Now it was . . .

Well, he didn’t know what it was, exactly. Important.

They had something special, a second chance for both of them to make things right, to

make each other right. Something to not screw up.

Excerpt:

Leaning back against the van and spreading his legs so she could fit into the cradle of his hips, Cage realized something in that moment. He had never stopped loving Emelie. He kissed the top of her head…she still used that lemon-scented shampoo…then kissed her chin and the knuckles that continued to hold the packet of letters in a death grip. Pulling a handkerchief out of his back pocket, he used it to wipe the tears off her face and made her blow her nose hard.

Then, he framed her head with trembling fingers that combed into both sides of her hair, and he really kissed her. With all the love and yearning he’d built up over the years. Suppressed emotions exploded in him, emotions he hadn’t even known he’d been suppressing, not this late in the game, anyhow. He was out of control.

Then, Thank you God, she was out of control, too. Somewhere along the way she’d dropped the letters to the ground and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back with equal fervor.

There was a roaring in his ears, and his mind went blank. His body zapped into sensory overload with each of her soft caresses to his neck and shoulders, with the arching of her body against his, with the opening of her mouth to his deep kisses.

At one point his palms had landed on her butt and he raised her against his erection. Sweet! Sweet agony!

Women had two surefire weapons when it came to men. Sex and tears. Cage was being assaulted by both of them, and he welcomed the attack, even if he would be bullet-ridden in the end.

At this moment, as he feasted on the woman in his arms, there were no jagged splinters of past betrayals, no dark shadows of regret, no questions of what might have been, or could be. No anger. Not even a Toby Keith cynical message of “How Do You Like Me Now?” which he had to admit he’d harbored on occasion in the past. Just the now. And now was glorious.

MawMaw was probably watching them through the kitchen window, but he didn’t care. This was the girl he loved and she was back in his arms. Nothing was going to stop him now.

Except something did.

The slamming of car doors.

“Yoo-hoo!” someone yelled, and it wasn’t Belle and her boys. It was that Cajun wackjob Tante Lulu, with pink hair that matched a pink t-shirt proclaiming “I May Be Old, But There Are Parts of Me That Still Zing.” With her grinning niece Charmaine in a hoochie-mama, leopard print cat suit. Noticing the direction of his stare, Tante Lulu remarked, “I know. I tol’ her ta be careful. That get-up’s so tight, folks will see her religion.”

Cage pressed his forehead against Em’s, praying that his hard-on wouldn’t be evident. Em moaned; she had a few thing to hide, too, like her nipples under the thin silk shirt she wore, tucked into a pair of denims. “We came to help,” Charmaine said, smacking him on the butt as she passed by, carrying a box overflowing with plastic containers of food.

“Just in time, by the looks of things,” Tante Lulu remarked. She was also carrying food. Looked like one of those lidded cake carriers. “Best I hurry up with your hope chest, boy. Guar-an-teed!”

08/26/2014

There's nothing like the first time . . . In Carnal, Colorado, Faye Goodknight is the town's quiet, shy librarian. She may also be Carnal's last remaining virgin. For years, Faye has had a crush on Chace Keaton, but the gorgeous cop has always been unattainable. She's resigned to live contentedly with only her books for company—until Faye suddenly meets Chace alone in the woods . . .

Chace doesn't think he's the good guy everyone believes him to be. He's made a lot of choices he regrets, including denying his feelings for Faye. Through his choices, he's come to believe the pretty librarian is too good for him, but after their time in the woods, Chace realizes that she may be his last chance for redemption. Soon, their long simmering desires grow to a burning passion. Yet always casting a shadow over their happiness is Chace's dark past . . .

Kristen Ashley grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana, and has lived in Denver, Colorado, and the West Country of England. Thus she has been blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her posse is loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write. Kristen was raised in a house with a large and multigenerational family. They lived on a very small farm in a small town in the heartland, and Kristen grew up listening to the strains of Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon, and Whitesnake. Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music and love was a good way to grow up. And as she keeps growing up, it keeps getting better.

Cute, tight skirt that skimmed her hips, cupped her ass and hit her knees. Her low-​heeled, brown boots. A scoop-​necked tee under a cardigan. Skin displayed above the neckline of the tee highlighting an unusual and attractive three-​tiered necklace. Auburn hair falling in sheets over her shoulders and down her chest, a hank of it at the top, right of her forehead pulled to the side in a cute bobby pin. Makeup subtle and appealing.

She looked like a librarian who had good taste in clothes and a light but expert hand with makeup. Her own style, a style that did nothing to emphasize the obviously attractive features of her face or frame and because of that, they contradictorily accentuated them. It was a style that worked for her in a huge way.

And it had been working for Chace the same way for a long fucking time.

“Chace,” she said, still talking quietly, “did something—?”

She stopped talking abruptly when it became clear to her that he wasn’t going to stop coming at her.

She took a step back.

Too late.

He was on her, he rounded her waist with an arm and twisted them so he was moving her backward toward the door she’d come out.

“Oh God,” she whispered, hands coming up to rest light on his chest, eyes wide and staring in his. “Is the boy okay?”

He didn’t answer.

He moved her through the door, reached out a hand, grabbed it, slammed it, turned her sharply then moved in so she was pressed to it.

“What are you—?”

She stopped talking abruptly this time because he tightened his arm around her waist and yanked it up, yanking her into his body. His other hand drove into her silken hair at the back of her head. Then his fingers cupped her head and tipped it to the side. He slanted his head to the other side and slammed his mouth down on hers.

She made a noise of surprise, her body tense against his and he thrust his tongue between her lips. Without a choice, they opened, another noise of surprise filled his mouth but he ignored that one too, carried on with what he was doing and took her mouth.

She tasted like bubblemint again. This time he knew why since his tongue encountered the gum.

Sweet, fresh, clean. Fucking clean. Beautiful.

God, nothing more beautiful.

He deepened an already deep kiss, needing it, and she gave it to him. The tension flowed from her body, it melted into his, her hands slid up his chest, one curving around the back of his neck, fingers going into his hair. The other one slid around his shoulders and held on tight.

Then she gave more, pressing deeper, her tongue timidly sparring with his, her fingers flexing into his scalp, her arm holding tighter. He took it, pulling her close even as he pressed her back into the door, forcing her soft curves to mold to his frame.

When he felt it start to take over, when he knew he’d lose control if he didn’t stop, he stopped.

Tearing his mouth from hers, he tipped his head to rest his forehead on hers, his eyes opening to see, up close, hers drifting open in a cute, sexy flutter and he whispered,

“Bubblemint.”

She blinked slowly. No, languidly. Like she was shaking off a dream she didn’t want to let go.

Then she whispered back, “I’m addicted to it.”

Chace couldn’t bury the groan that escaped his throat as he slid his cheek down hers and buried his face in her neck. Her perfume was flowery but there was a hint of vanilla mellowing it. Sweet and fresh.

And clean.

The woman in his arms was addicted to gum. Not crack. Not kinky sex. Not booze. Not shopping. Not nagging a man or controlling him.

08/25/2014

What woman in her right mind would say no to marrying the dashing Duke of Sedgemoor? Miss Penelope Thorne, that's who. She's known Camden Rothermere since they were children-and she also knows she'd bring nothing but scandal to his name.

Cam can hardly believe Penelope turned down his proposal. But if she wants to run off to the Continent and set the rumor mill ablaze, he can't stop her. Then her brother's dying request sends him to bring home the one woman he thought he'd finally gotten over.

The only way they'll both get back to London without their reputations in tatters is to pretend they're married during the journey. That means kissing like they mean it and even sharing a bed-until it becomes hard to tell where the game ends and true desire begins . . .

A silence descended. At first, it was heavy with suppressed passion, but gradually it became something softer and kinder. As his voice was softer and kinder when he spoke. “Pen, why are you so determined to go into exile? What are you running away from?”

You.

She’d spent the last nine years fleeing this man she loved but who could never love her. Despite excitement and adventure, despite playing a sophisticate in a sophisticated world, she hadn’t run toward anything. What a lowering admission.

“I enjoy my life.” Apart from a constant ache that no spectacular scenery or charming admirers or glamorous intrigues banished.

“You’d enjoy London.”

“I doubt it. People at home are more conservative than here. English society won’t accept me with open arms.”

“I would.”

Pen couldn’t help herself. She laughed. It was either laugh or cry. If she cried, he might guess how it would crush her to leave him. “No, Cam. I’m not throwing myself into your arms under any circumstances.”

He didn’t laugh. He looked disturbed and angry. That dangerous hum in the air returned. Fatalistically she recognized that it had never gone away. “Pen, I’m trying my best to remember that I’m an honorable man.”

She sobered, telling herself that she couldn’t allow him to compromise his principles. But how easy it would be to ignore what was right when for the sake of a little sin, he could be hers. However briefly. Physically if not emotionally. She could cross a mere foot of space and kiss him. If she knew anything about men— and at twenty eight, she should—the slightest encouragement would shatter his restraint.

“Unfortunately,” she whispered before she could stop herself.

The hum rose to overwhelm every other sound.

About Anna Campbell

Always a voracious reader, ANNA CAMPBELL decided when she was a child that she wanted to be a writer. Once she discovered the wonderful world of romance novels, she knew exactly what she wanted to write. Anna has won numerous awards for her Avon historical romances including Romantic TimesReviewers Choice, the Booksellers Best, the Golden Quill, the Heart of Excellence, the Aspen Gold and the Australian Romance Readers Association's most popular historical romance (twice). Her books have twice been nominated for Romance Writers of America's prestigious RITA Award and twice for Australia's Romantic Book of the Year.

When she's not writing passionate, intense stories featuring gorgeous Regency heroes and the women who are their destiny, Anna loves to travel, especially in the United Kingdom, and listen to all kinds of music. She lives near the sea on the east coast of Australia, where she's losing her battle with an overgrown subtropical garden.

08/18/2014

One crazy dog––one awkward vet––one naked pool guy––and one life-changing month in California to make friends, fall in love, and twist fate.

Who gets paid to walk a dog and recline by the pool all day? Sydney Montgomery, aspiring museum curator and professional house-sitter, that’s who.

When her aunt and uncle need a house and dog sitter for thirty days in Palo Alto, Sydney can’t turn down the chance to be closer to her sister in L.A. Within twenty-four hours of her arrival, Sydney’s cleaning up runny dog poo, taking an uncooperative pooch to a handsome yet awkward vet, and being rescued from the bottom of the pool by a naked “pool guy.”

Lautner, “pool guy,” has a hot body and a cool persona. With eyes of iridescent blue oceans, he is mesmerizing, sexy, and addictive. What he is not––the pool guy.

Dr. Lautner Sullivan is a college wide receiver turned pediatric resident. He knows how to woo a woman with flowers, pastries, and sweet tea. Lautner is every girl’s dream, but Sydney is not every girl. She’s immune to rainbows, fairytales, pixy dust, and the “L” word.

The attraction is immediate, the friendship is earned, and the love is undeniable. Thirty days is their forever, but forever is not long enough.

Release date: August 18th, 2014

Excerpt:

I pour a glass of iced tea and start to walk toward the deck. Then I turn around and pour another glass. “Hospitality is a good thing,” I tell myself, needing only to convince the rational part of my brain.

“Tea?” I offer, walking over to the pool.

Aaron sets the skimmer net along the side of the pool.

“Thank you.” The smirk on his face is suspicious and makes me feel like I’m missing some inside joke. He takes the glass from me and I move past him to get a closer look at the pool because I can’t look at him without his shirt and not break into a sweat.

“What are you skimming?”

“Nothing really. I’m stirring the water,” he says matter-of-factly.

This guy is not for real. What does he mean by “stirring the water?” He’s up to something. It’s obvious why Aunt Elizabeth hired him. She must properly clean the pool after he leaves so Trevor doesn’t get suspicious and fire his ass … a very fine ass I will confess.

“And why is it you need to stir the water?” I turn toward him and my eyes dart straight to his broad muscular chest and well-defined abs all kissed by the sun. Jeez, he’s too perfect and I’m … something. Distracted? Mentally lethargic? Crazy? Horny? BINGO!

“So there’s an even consistency of chemicals when I test the water.”

My mouth is agape and I cannot stop looking at him. He bends down to physically capture my attention. Shit! I show no shame staring at his bare chest.

“Hello?” he says, forcing my eyes back to his.

Shaking the inappropriate thoughts from my head, I take a quick sip of my drink to mask my embarrassment.

“Do I need to put my shirt back on?”

I choke on my tea. “No––” I can’t stop coughing. “I mean––” Clearing my throat, I notice his cocky smile. “Put your shirt on or leave it off. Why would I care?”

God, Sydney, could you be a bigger disaster today? The flap of the dog door distracts me. Swarley leaps down the deck stairs. Aaron hunches down like a lineman in anticipation of his overzealous greeting. The problem is, as Swarley races closer I realize he’s not aiming for Aaron. He’s aiming for––

“Oh shit!” I’m catapulted backwards into the pool.

My body makes its descent to the bottom while I open my eyes to see the blurry magnification of Mr. Sex on Legs pool guy standing at the edge looking down at me. I’m considering seeing how long I can hold my breath. Maybe he’ll decide to leave and I can surface from the depths of my own personal Hell without an audience.

Yes! That’s it. I can do this.

I still hold many records from my high school swimming career. Holding my breath until he leaves should be easy. Unless he decides to be heroic and jumps in to save me. Not a bad scenario either. Then at least we’ll both be drenched in our clothes.

Like a leaky raft, I release my breath one bubble at a time and take a seat at the bottom of the pool. Ha! He’s emptying his pockets. Looks like I won’t be the only drowned rat. Wait. What the hell? No he’s not. Oh dear God, yes he is. Sex on legs dives into the pool, sans shorts and underwear! The two haunting notes from Jaws sound in my head while I scramble to the surface in the opposite direction, desperate to get away from him.

The sweet relief of air filling my lungs is squashed by the anxiety of being chased by a naked stranger.

“Oh my God! What are you doing?” A frantic yell breaks out with the remaining breath in my lungs while I swim toward the ladder, barely escaping him. I leap out of the pool with superhuman speed. Wrapping my arms around myself, I scramble to the pool house, my heart racing and my whole body shaking as I fumble for a towel.

“The water feels great today.” His voice sounds behind me.

I whip around and gasp, wide eyed. A wet, naked, sinful-as-a-hot-fudge-sundae body greets me a few feet away. Hands fisted, his arms are casually crossed at his wrists covering part of his junk in the front. The perfect cover to Sports Illustrated stands before me, and all I want to do is smack him across the face to wipe the stupid smirk off it. Then, of course, I want to jump him and rub every sensitive part of my body against his, because right now I’m so pissed and so turned on, I need to dive into the pool again before I self-combust.

“Finish up and get out,” I mumble as I toss him a towel and stomp toward the house. On my way, I pass Swarley beached out in a lounge chair by the pool.

“Evil demon dog!” I scowl at him.

Want more? Take a peek at the epilogue and chapter 1 of Undeniably You!

With 10 years of flossing lectures under her belt, she took early retirement from her dental hygiene career to stay home with her three awesome boys and manage the family business.

After her best friend of nearly 30 years suggested a few books from the Contemporary Romance genre, Jewel was hooked. Devouring two and three books a week but still craving more, she decided to practice sustainable reading, AKA writing.

When she's not donning her cape and saving the planet one tree at a time, she enjoys yoga with friends, good food with family, rock climbing with her kids, watching How I Met Your Mother reruns, and of course…heart-wrenching, tear-jerking, panty-scorching novels.

08/12/2014

Belinda “Bee” Carter isn’t quite sure what she’s gotten herself into. She’s been receiving mysterious messages from a secret admirer who is sending her more and more erotic dares. Each time she fulfills his desires, she gets rewarded. She’s convinced that her mystery texter is one of two super-hot men—Nicolas, the handsome billionaire, or Hawke, the sexy biker—but she can’t tell which one it is. And she’s coming to realize that beneath her peaches-and-cream exterior beats a heart that longs to play out all of her most secret fantasies.

As the stakes are raised again, will Bee succumb to the sensual allure of this latest dare?

The bus arrives six minutes late. It’s crammed full of people. Painted faces are pressed against the steamed-up windows. I spot dorsal fin hats and giant foam fish, which can mean only one thing—it’s Shark Week at the Shedd.

The driver opens the door, looks at me, glances behind him at the masses of bodies wedged into the space. “You’re small. You might fit.” He flicks his fingers, ushering me onto the vehicle.

“Thank you.” I’m average size but I don’t argue. I pay my fare and slide between a broad woman proudly wearing an I Heart Hammerheads T-shirt and a bearded man in a suit. My hand sticks out of the suffocating human sandwich, my purse hanging over the fare box.

The bus jerks forward. I slam against the corporate lumberjack, my breasts smacking against his chest. “Sorry.” I widen my stance, better bracing myself, embarrassed by the contact.

He grunts, his response swallowed by his beard. Moisture beads on his forehead. His suit jacket smells like wet wool.

I stare at his lapels, trying to act as though I’m not pressed against him, as though I’m not sharing an intimate embrace with a stranger, our thighs, hips, chests touching. The floor vibrates under my shoes. I don’t know how fast we are moving, as I can’t see outside, my view blocked by bodies, my fellow passengers much taller than I am.

A lady grumbles loudly about great whites giving other sharks a bad name. “Everyone knows the great white is the only shark worth talking about,” a man snaps.

08/04/2014

Jen: As a debut novelist, your personal journey to publication is a story in itself. So that my readers may catch a glimpse into the life of the woman behind the words, please briefly share with us your educational and professional background.

Carolyn: I would love to spill out a list of early writing awards and some distinguished writing program for my professional background, but it seems like lying to you right off the bat would set a bad precedent. Although fiction is kind of like lying… Still, probably a bad idea. The truth is my background is in Architecture. I have a degree from Clemson University and worked in the Architectural field for years. I quit working full-time when my first daughter was born. I have two girls, ages 13-going-on-40 and 14-going-on-10. They’re very different.

I began writing with a personal blog when my girls were little. Blogging taught me how to write, how to sit down and do the actual work of writing. When my younger daughter was in third grade her teacher told her she’d read a cute story about her on my blog, which led to a very tiny but very determined foot stomp demanding that I never write about her on the internet ever again. So that ended that. I mean, you can’t argue with the foot stomp. I think she may have even handed me a crude version of a cease and desist written in crayon. But I still loved writing and when my writing time was no longer taken up with the work of the blog I realized there were stories swirling in my head. Characters and voices and more often than not, arguments. I began to write them down and this was how I started to create fiction.

Jen: Please describe for us your “Aha!” moment when you decided to take the plunge and pursue a career as a writer.

Carolyn: I don’t know that there was one “Aha!” moment for me in becoming a writer and I’m still in a little bit of shock at the fact that it seems to be turning the corner into career-land. But I think the moment that felt like a plunge to me was when I submitted my first novel to a freelance editor named Caroline Upcher and she agreed to take me on. Caroline is British and I always read her fierce red edits in a Harry Potter British accent in my head, which makes them sound very civilized and yet somehow more biting. The first set of notes I received was in the form of a two-page letter summarizing her thoughts on that very first novel. The letter opened with a sentence containing some very kind words about me being a good writer and a compliment about my dialogue being effortless. That was like taking a hit on a positive affirmation pipe. The rest of the single spaced, two pages went on to lay out every single thing that was wrong with that novel in excruciating detail. Crash! The letter ended with an encouraging invitation to submit something else to her if I had any ideas because she would love to work with me. Immediately I threw myself into writing the first draft of Cancel the Wedding. I was so excited at the prospect of trying to make a story work and with Caroline I had someone to help me. That was the plunge, because the criticism was harsh and the work was intense but I chose to jump in anyway.

Jen: In terms of nuts and bolts, approximately how long did it take for you to complete the manuscript? And, what was the most challenging part of the process?

Carolyn: The first draft of Cancel the Wedding took about six weeks. It’s being released August 5, 2014. So from the beginning of the process until the actual book is on shelves…do the math…carry the one… It’s been about four years start to finish. Obviously there was a great deal of editing to go from that first draft to the published novel. I had the infamous red ink from Caroline, we worked together for over a year, but there were also edits from my agent and from my editor at Harper, Claire Wachtel.

The editing wasn’t the most challenging part of the process to me, however. For me the most difficult part was the waiting. If I condensed it all down to hours and added it all up I would probably look like this: one year of actual writing + three years of waiting = four years til publication. There is a lot of waiting in the writing world. Waiting for the next read, the next set of edits, the feedback. Waiting to find your agent. Waiting for a publishing house to look at your manuscript. Waiting for it to be your turn at the top of the pile. The waiting, as Tom would say, was the hardest part.

Jen: Your new release Cancel the Wedding centers on one woman’s journey of self-discovery. How did you arrive at the premise?

Carolyn: When I began working on the novel I wasn’t sure what was in store for Olivia. What I really wanted to explore was that necessarily messy part in life when everything is falling apart on its way to becoming something different. I think everyone can look back on their life’s path and say, that was the moment, that was the event that changed everything. It can be one tiny decision, like Olivia deciding to drive to Georgia. But you can’t see the kind of impact it will have while it’s happening. When you’re in the middle of the storm it just feels like chaos and confusion until you can get to the other side and look back on it with clarity.

Jen: At what point does Olivia realize that she may not be leading the life she deserves?

Carolyn: Olivia feels like she’s leading the life that she should lead, and we often confuse what we think we should do with what we actually deserve to have. She is someone who takes the obligations of her promises very seriously even though she’s fallen into most of them without conscious thought. Especially the promises to her fiancé and her job. But then she runs away from everything and begins to feel some joy and happiness for the first time in a long time, I think that’s the moment when she realizes that some things have to change. I also think the shocking reality she uncovers regarding her mother’s past is the catalyst that allows Olivia to break some of those promises that no longer make sense and to follow the path of life that she deserves.

Jen: As you were writing the book, did you feel a certain connection with one of the characters?

Carolyn: Of course I felt connections to all of them. They’re the friends that live in my head. It’s a strange thing to write fiction, these people and places are very real to the author and they all actually exist in some other realm. I think I felt as much of a connection to Olivia or Janie as I did to Lake Huntley, as if it was a living breathing entity as well. If anything the deepest connection I felt personally was this notion of trying to understand your family and where they came from. My sister and I have very little family, no aunts or uncles or cousins. We were raised as Air Force brats so we have no hometown. So I think I’m somewhat fascinated by the idea of seeing your parents through other people’s lenses, from the perspective of their childhood friends or relatives or hometown neighbors. We never had that growing up and it feels foreign to me which is why I think I pursued it.

Jen: Let’s switch gears now and talk about your promotional plans. Please take us on a brief tour of your website highlighting points of interest.

Carolyn: My promotional plans include the terrifying prospect of a book tour. Thrilling and scary all at the same time. Speaking in front of crowds makes me nervous so I plan to just take a deep breath and try not to faint or vomit. I’m sure I will dork out and blush from my toes to the top of my head and pretend that no one can see it. Seriously, if you want to come watch someone overcome their nerves while trying not to accidentally curse in front of a roomful of strangers then come see me at one of my stops. My website is CarolynDingman.com and on there you can purchase the book, see the Book Tour Schedule, read my Newsletter, and Contact me. I also plan to add a gallery of photos from the readings and book clubs as that gets underway.

Jen: Are you present in social media? And, what is the best way for my readers to keep abreast of your latest news?

Carolyn: I am probably most active on my Facebook page, but I also recently started on Instagram which I love! I’m trying not to over-abuse the filters on there, but I make no promises. I have an email Newsletter that I send out occasionally with all of my shenanigans and updates, but I also like to share cocktail recipes and some other fun articles along the way. I do have a Twitter account that I am trying to wrestle into submission, but I won’t lie, I kind of suck at Twitter.

Jen: Are you currently at work on your next book? If so, what may you share with us?

Carolyn: I am working on the next book but I hesitate to say anything about it because if I’ve learned anything in the process of writing Cancel the Wedding it’s that the story as it stands now probably won’t even resemble the finished product.

Jen: When you take a break from writing, how do you like to spend your free time?

Carolyn: How would I “like” to spend my free time? I would like to be sitting on a couch or a hammock or a beach chair with a stack of books on one side and a cooler full of ice cold Orange La Croix and Miller Lite on the other. But how I actually spend my free time is in the car driving my kids back and forth to school and soccer practice and karate and sailing or in a fold up chair on the sideline of a soccer game or a karate lesson or a regatta. Really I wouldn’t have it any other way. They are determined to keep growing up and they get older every single year and I am beginning to realize how fleeting it all is. I’m happy to be able to spend this time with them even if it does mean less reading and more stops at the gas station. Besides, I can always sneak a chapter in while waiting in the carpool lane.

Jen: Are you involved in any charitable causes that have influenced you in a personal or professional way?

Carolyn: I’ve spent all of the time I could as a volunteer with my kids and their school. I have been the Girl Scout Troop leader and Service Unit Camporee Chair, which is scary since I don’t camp, but I do make a mean spreadsheet delegating the camping bits. I’ve held countless positions as Room Mom or Team Mom or PTA committee chair or board member. (I think there’s an asterisk next to my name in the directory, *caves easily to pressure, will chair anything, total sucker.) I am a passionate proponent and supporter of public schools so I have happily given time and energy and a million cookies and too many close calls with a glue gun to my kids’ schools over the years. But I believe in the value of public education and I think we all have to give what we can to make it work for the diversity of all of the kids in the community. I had the time so I made the effort.

Jen: Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to chat with my readers. Best of luck with your new release!

Carolyn: Thank you for having me, Jen! I am so grateful for the support from the book blogging community. I absolutely loved being a part of the blogging tribe and I could not ask for a better group of people to support this effort of mine and this book. Thank you again!

Readers, I hope you have enjoyed my interview with Carolyn T. Dingman. Please stop by your local bookstore, library, or online retailer and pick up a copy of Cancel the Wedding today. Better yet, how would you like to win a free copy instead? Okay, send me an email at jensjewels@gmail.com with the correct answer to the following trivia question and you’ll be entered into the contest. Good luck! (Offer void where prohibited.)

What is the name of the lead character in Cancel the Wedding?

Next month, I will be chatting with Darcie Chan about her upcoming release, The Mill River Redemption: A Novel. Be sure to keep up-to-date on all the latest news in the publishing business by stopping by www.jennifervido.com, follow me on Facebook jennifervido.com, on Twitter and Pinterest @JenniferVido, and on Instagram @JenVido. And as always, thanks for making Jen’s Jewels the ultimate source for news on the web for today’s hottest authors.

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